Halfway to Hell
by Fairytale-Ace
Summary: True love doesn't always come with a happy ever after. Fear can wreak havoc in the strongest minds. But can that be calmed by the one who understands those fears? Warnings for Graphic Violence and possible character death(s).


Immobilized. How did Pan have the power to do it? Her magic is just below the surface, but it has no outlet. She can feel Henry beneath her arm and Emma's across hers as she protectively embraced him as well.

Pan babbles his big plan and his focus shifts to Neal. She may not like the man for a number of reasons, not the least of which he left Emma in jail because a wooden boy told him to, but he was Henry's father. She wasn't going to make the mistake of trying to keep Henry from knowing a biological parent again. Too much harm all around the last time.

But it wouldn't matter, Henry will remember none of this. Nor will Emma. Never would that arm hover protectively again. Her heart hammers and she tries to focus on her magic, but it is responds sluggishly.

She hears Gold before she sees him. Pan turns and she hears the sound and feels the magic. Leaves skitter across their feet, the only movement aside from Pan and Gold. He reaches up and she sees the shadow. For a second she thinks perhaps they did not destroy Pan's shadow, but then she sees the dagger. Gold embraces the boy and she hears his words but they don't register. All she sees is the shimmer of Pan's magic, then as the dagger swings down, it is into Henry's back. His wool coat. Not Pan's forest green. Henry.

It is that moment that the Pan's hold on her, them, is broken. There is a scream, several shouts, but she doesn't care. Her hand slams through bone and flesh and his heart is in her hand. As her hand grips the beating heart, she feels it stutter. As she squeezes she hears the bang, the heart her spell enchanted returns to muscle. It takes her a moment but as the lifeless body slumps to the ground, releasing her hand, she sees Emma holding the gun. It is only then she can feel wetness dripping down the side of her face and onto her neck. But she doesn't have time. She rushes towards Henry. Rumple still has him tight in his embrace, his stare distant, tear filled.

She yells to him to wait. But he doesn't acknowledge her. As she nears her heart cracks at the astonished look on her son's face. "Mom. Momma."

She hears the crack of bone when Gold twists the knife. He says something but it doesn't make sense. There is a flash of light and they are gone.

Every fibre of her being is screaming to tear this world apart, but it is Emma's soft "Where did he go? Is he…" that focuses her.

She turns and in her shock Emma has taken off her glove and is trying to wipe what she knows to be Pan's blood from her face. "Can we follow?"

She shakes her head, her tears beginning to flow. "I don't… my magic..." She can't finish as she feels her own heart tighten, bringing her to her knees.

Regina wakes with a gut-wrenching scream, tears trailing down her cheeks and then Emma is there, whispering words she can't comprehend. Her hand claws at her chest where it feels as though her heart is trying to escape and she doesn't notice the pain or the blood until Emma grabs and tugs, her murmurs sounding more and more urgent the longer Regina resists.

"Baby, stop please." Emma's panicked voice fills her ears and she snaps, loud sobs echoing throughout their room as she curls in on herself. She feels the arms wrap around her from behind, a body moulding against hers while one hand slips beneath her neck and curls around her shoulders as the other holds her waist, as if Emma can protect her from her own mind.

After a time, when her sobs turn to whimpers and the tears no longer fall, Emma is there, comforting, whispering.

"…just a dream."

"I'm here."

"I've got you."

The words repeat like a mantra in her mind, over and over as the hand moves from hip to stomach, caressing softly, soothingly. How many times Emma has done this, has needed to do this; she's lost count.

She feels weak, drained.

Her body unwinds, whimpers ceasing and Emma starts to hum, filling the air with the soft sound, knowing Regina detests the silence. She turns in the embrace and Emma shifts on to her back, accommodating, welcoming her head as she buries it in the crook of her shoulder. Fingers weave their way through her hair and she sighs.

She wants to see her son—needs to see him, but the thought of Emma leaving her for even a moment hurts and she can't bring herself to ask for him. Instead she focuses on the hand stroking her spine, fingers playing along the notches and reminding her that he is okay. Henry is alive, asleep in his own bed where neither Pan nor Rumple will ever reach him.

They are the ones who died.

It was a dream, just a dream; Emma said so and her Savior wouldn't lie to her, not about their son.

The humming stops and she closes her eyes, entwining their legs together. Emma asks if she's okay, she always asks and Regina nods. She swallows, throat dry and murmurs, "Just a dream," as tender hands meet in the middle of her back and glide around her sides, strong arms returning her to their fold. Emma squeezes, reassurance and understanding all rolled into one; a silent I've got you and Regina smiles faintly against her neck.

"I love you," Emma whispers softly, always softly and Regina nods again, nose brushing the underside of a jaw as she presses lips to warm flesh and repeats, "I love you."


End file.
